Savium Saliva

skateboard.

A broken ankle.
Consolation is not known, just the word “Fool” is echoing from wall to ear.
Hatred!
A rehabilitated ankle.
Praise exists but is only thrown out by an almost stranger to me.
Now there is only darkness, vibrations are only moving in the electronic:
A rotating CD, and an image with no end on a screen with no sound.
Everything has fallen out of its never-ending chaos theory.
On occasion, a heart attack or the fear of untried boundaries.
Agoraphobia is crushing 24 hours as if they were 60 small seconds,
which haven’t even passed yet.
The blanket has grabbed itself tight around a body that is already dysfunctional.
Will these veins re-open or is the body declared broke?

- C.M.H.